


Holding Back

by silentexplorer18



Category: Colby Brock - Fandom, Sam and Colby, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Best Friends, Drinking, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Mild Language, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:02:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentexplorer18/pseuds/silentexplorer18
Summary: Colby’s drowning himself in alcohol.  Although you’ve always been the one to lift him up, Sam’s the one who takes charge, encouraging him to stop being stupid.
Relationships: Colby Brock & Sam Golbach, Colby Brock & You, Colby Brock/You
Kudos: 8





	Holding Back

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt over on Tumblr by [ @corvidsprompts ](https://corvidprompts.tumblr.com/). If you're in need of a prompt, I highly recommend checking out their blog.

This had been going on for weeks now. Colby would go out partying, get absolutely shitfaced, and rely on you to carry his ass home. Sometimes you came to the parties, too, watching him drunkenly flirt with girls that would fuck with his self esteem and leave him sad and confused as you escorted him out of the building. Other times, he’d call you, telling you he missed you and that he wasn’t feeling good. Usually, you’d be at home on those nights assuming he’d stayed in or gone with Sam to film some spooky video. Upon receiving his call, you’d drag your butt from your bed and dress, grabbing a few necessities before driving to pick up Colby at whatever dive bar or friend’s house he was wandering around in a drunken stupor.

After you’d lugged him into the car, you’d call Sam to let him know what was going on, and ask if he could let the two of you into the apartment building and the dark dungeon Colby called his own.

Back at his apartment, you would shove the idiotic boy through the doors, urging him to take a shower. Only half the time, he relented. You always managed to get him out of his sweaty, liquor stained party clothes and tucked into bed, though; afterwards, shoving the nasty items into the washer and starting the cycle. Then you’d usually curl up on the couch to wait until the next morning to help hangover-Colby get his life back in gear.

You were his best friend, but lately you were his drunk friend more than you were his sober one.

When he was sober, he would start trying to push you away. He wouldn’t want you in the apartment with him. Telling you to get back to your work, he would shoo you from the building and collapse on the couch with a hangover headache. Of course, you’d be offended and disappointed but still couldn’t resist the 3 a.m. call that would pop onto the screen several hours later.

He needed you.

He just couldn’t seem to admit it to himself.

What is it they say? A drunken man’s actions are a sober man’s thoughts?

Tonight was just like any other night. You’d gotten Colby back to his apartment in one piece, managing to get him showered and undressed before shoving his giddy ass into bed.

You sighed, the wear and tear of helping him beginning to take a toll on you.

You hated seeing him like this.

He was destroying himself. And for what? Some fucking alcohol high.

You shut his bedroom door and prayed he didn’t throw up all over himself in the middle of the night. He’d done that before, and though you tried your best to clean him up and get him back on track, you’d eventually had to call Sam for backup. It was disgusting.

You were preparing to sleep on Colby’s couch like normal when Sam waltzed through the door. “Is he out?”

“Like a light,” you said with a melancholy chuckle. Although you loved being around the boys, you hated that this was what it was like. You wanted to be the fun friend, not the lame ass one that was only invited around when Colby was being a self destructive idiot.

Sam’s eyes traveled past your face, noting how you were beginning to tuck yourself into Colby’s couch. “Nope,” he said, pointing a finger at you.

“What?”

“You’re going home.”

“Sam, you know I can’t. He can’t take care of himself in the morning when he wakes up really hungover.”

Giving you an apologetic smile, he nodded. “I know, but you need to go home and get some sleep in a _real_ bed.”

“But-”

“No buts.”

Sighing, your eyes trailed back toward Colby’s door. You were silent for a moment before you spoke again, voice wavering dangerously with the words. “I’m worried about him, Sam. He used to be such a great guy and now he’s falling apart. I don’t even know what happened ‘cause he won’t tell me. He wasn’t like this when we were kids. He wasn’t like this when you all lived together in that mansion. What the fuck happened?” A few stray tears trickled down your cheek as the heartbreak hit you. You’d lost your best friend; he’d been replaced with an intoxicated shell of what once was.

Sam sat beside you quickly, enveloping you in a tight hug. “I know. I don’t know what happened, but I’m gonna talk to him about it again. We’ll figure this out, get him back on track. Don’t worry.”

“Do you think we can?”

“I think we’ll find a way to.” You nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “But in the meantime, you’re going to go home and go to bed and sleep.”

“But he’ll need help in the morning.”

“I’ll do it.” Sam seemed almost eager in his answer, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You need to get some rest.”

You smiled a bittersweet smile, thrilled at the thought of sleeping in your own bed but concerned at the thought of leaving Colby alone. Weighing your options, you decided one night couldn’t hurt and Sam would keep pestering you until you agreed to leave anyway. “He’ll need painkillers or something when he wakes up. He’s out. I already checked the cabinet.”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home.”

Relenting, you rose from the couch and made your way home, crashing in bed and falling into as deep a sleep as your drunken counterpart.

Around eleven the next morning, Sam had barged into the brunette’s room with a loud bang, jolting the deep sleeper from his groggy slumber.

“Sam, what the fuck?” he said, voice raspy from the alcohol and partying the night prior.

“Get up,” he simply said, opening the curtains to let the California sunshine stream into the room. Head instantly pounding, he squinted through the now blinding room. Groaning he sat up, pulling a pair of shorts on before following his friend’s path into the living area.

Colby reached for a glass of water, taking a sip before Sam tossed him the painkillers.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” he asked, gulping down the pills quickly.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing! You’ve been getting drunk for months now to avoid the fact that you love her instead of just growing the balls to admit it.”

Attempting to roll his eyes, another wave of pain shot through his head. “That’s not what’s going on.”

Glaring, Sam pointed at him. “I’m your best friend. Don’t think for a second I’m buying any of the shit you’re selling. You love her and you’re scared.”

Irritation growing, he burst out, “I’ll do what it takes to protect her! She’s out of my league, and she’s too nice to turn me down and not feel guilty. This is saving her from all of that. She doesn’t have to feel guilty she doesn’t love me. Besides, you know she said she doesn’t want to get into a relationship right now.”

“You’re not protecting her when seeing you do this to yourself causes her pain! Watching you do this to yourself hurts her and it hurts me. It has to stop.”

“I don’t want her to hate me,” he said softly, confident resolve faltering.

“She doesn’t yet. But if you keep up the drinking and late night calls, she just might leave. It’s killing her to watch you throw your life away.”

“You don’t know-”

“She told me last night,” he said, waving off the half-assed excuses. “She started crying, Colby. It took me like 20 minutes to convince her to go home because she was so terrified about leaving you alone.”

“Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his face as all the mistakes he made began running through his head.

“It’s not too late for you to fix this, brother,” Sam said, rising from his seat and heading toward the door. “Call her. Sober.”

Colby nodded, mind racing as his best friend went to leave him alone with his thoughts. “Hey,” he called out before the blonde could completely escape the apartment, “how did you know I needed painkillers?” The bottle had been scooped from the counter enroute to Sam’s apartment as he exited.

“She told me,” he said with a pointed smile, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck.”

It was a few hours later before he’d gotten his head together enough to call you. It was the first time in a long time he’d heard the familiar ringing without the world being at least partially fuzzy, and, honestly, it was terrifying.

“Colby? Are you okay?” you immediately asked upon answering the call. You figured he was in trouble if he was calling you already. Either the culprit was day drinking or a killer hangover, both of which weren’t reassuring thoughts.

“No, um, I’m okay. Hey, listen. Could you come over? I want to talk to you.” He seemed timid, unsure.

“Um, yeah. Can it wait an hour? I’m in a meeting right now.” Your voice was rushed, concern weaving through your typically confident air.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, of course. Why did you answer if you were in a meeting?”

You could hear his guilt through the phone, and despite your sorrow at making him guilty, you could help the joy racing through your mind that he’d displayed any sort of emotion outside drunkenness. That was a good sign. “I was worried about you.”

“Don’t worry. Get back to your meeting,” he encouraged.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” you said, hanging up and stepping back into the office.

That gave him an hour to shower and clean and fret over his appearance and what he needed to say and all the things that could go horribly, horribly wrong.

This was the first time in a long time that Sam hadn’t let you into Colby’s apartment. It had been so long since Colby had opened the door for you, looking shy and tired in his usual fashion and invited you into the room. You’d missed it.

Wandering around the couch, you’d plopped down on the dark fabric, Colby nervously sitting beside you.

“What’s up, Colby?” you asked softly, pulling him from his thoughts. You were giving him your full attention, eyes scanning his face for any hint as to what was wrong. Hoping he wasn’t inviting you to a party, you listened intently.

Taking a breath, he began, knowing it was better to let out the words all at once rather than try to skirt around the topic. You were too smart for that. “I’ve been holding back. I like you. A lot. And I don’t know what I’m doing because I’ve liked you for so long and you said you weren’t ready for a relationship right now and you’re so out of my league. It just hurts to not be with you, and I was trying to fall for other girls to protect you from me having to tell you how I feel about you. But it didn’t fucking work. I couldn’t fall. They just weren’t you. When I got drunk, I could distract myself with girls, but by the end of the night the only girl I wanted was you and I kept calling you because I was drunk and being stupid and I’m so sorry about dragging you into any of this. I never meant to hurt you, but Sam says I have been, so I’m really sorry for that,” he took a breath, shamefully glancing at you during the break in his monologue. “I thought I could fall in love with somebody else at one of those stupid parties, but I couldn’t. I should never have put you through any of this, and I’m sorry I have, but I promise it’s not gonna happen any more. I promise I won’t call you anymore when I’m having a rough night. It was really juvenile of me. I’m sorry.”

You chuckled to yourself, and his focus shifted back to you. “You always were the juvenile one.” He gave you a sheepish grin. “It’s not that I don’t want you to call me when things are bad, Colby,” you continued quietly. “I just wish things wouldn’t get that kind of bad. I don’t want you drinking to avoid me when you could just be with me instead.”

“I don’t want you saying this if you don’t want it.”

“If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t be saying it. Why is it you’re the kind of guy that thinks that the only kinds of women that want you are the ones that throw themselves at you? Just because I’m not rubbing my ass on you at parties doesn’t mean I’m not desperately in love with you. You’re just too self centered to notice-”

Your rant was cut short by his lips gently pressing against your own. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, warm breath fanning over your face. “Please forgive me. I promise, no more crazy drinking. No more wild partying. No more party girls.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just you and me,” he promised.

You smiled, lips pressing against his once again. You kissed for a few minutes, lips pressing firmly, tongues teasing gently, mouths traveling down toward necks and ears, whispering promises of returned affections as they went. By the end, you were cuddled up against his body, breathless and blushing.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” he asked quietly, breaking the peaceful silence.

“I would, but I’m so tired of this couch. It’s really uncomfortable to sleep on, Colby.”

“Who said anything about you sleeping on the couch?”

Your eyes shot to his, heat growing on your cheeks. “Do you mean your bed?”

“Of course,” he murmured, arm wrapping around your shoulder comfortably.

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“I never asked you to. I just wanna cuddle.”

“Why?” you mumbled, snuggling a little further into his chest.

“Cause I’m so damn mad at myself for holding back when I could’ve been cuddling you for weeks now.”

You smiled. “There are still weeks left to cuddle.” Standing, you reached for his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Your bed.”

“I thought you didn’t wanna have sex?” he asked, shooting you a goofy look.

“Who said anything about sex?” you asked playfully. He nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “But when we do,” you said, shooting him a grin, “don’t hold back,” you winked.

His laughter echoed through the apartment as he pulled you under his blankets. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! You can also find me over on [Tumblr](https://silentexplorer18.tumblr.com/).


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